


Never Did Run Smooth

by Midnight12reader



Series: Becoming Q [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: BAMF Q, Gen, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:04:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1270909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight12reader/pseuds/Midnight12reader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Q's head slammed into the side of the table, the only thing he saw, other than stars, was Bond coming at him like the wrath of God. </p>
<p>The story of a relationship built on shattered illusions and new beginnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Did Run Smooth

Prologue: 

As Q's head slammed into the side of the table, the only thing he saw, other than stars, was Bond coming at him like the wrath of God. It was at that point that he somewhat hysterically began to reconsidered M's offer to stay on as Q. It wasn't often that a Q was given the option of retirement, outside of well, "retirement", but apparently good old M hadn't been read in yet on his full background or the far more likely scenario...knew Q was just dumb enough to turn him down. As his body started it's inelegant tumble to the ground, he determined to be less dumb in future. There was apparently too much stupidity going around as it was...no need to add to it. He snorted as he sat on the ground, momentarily dazed. 

He shook his head, pulling himself up with a shaky hand grasping the edge of his desk, as 006 shoved Bond back a few steps. His head began to throb as blood began to slowly trickle down the side of his face from a small gash above his eye. He reached up tiredly, dabbing at the small cut with two fingers. He stared at his blood stained fingers as he rubbed the now sticky fingers together slightly. He laughed mirthlessly as he leaned back on the desk, carelessly smearing the glass surface with blood. He watched as Bond continued to half heartedly struggle with 006 in an attempt to reach him. Tiring of the sight, he calmly reached over and picked up the old-fashioned letter opener from it's place among a cupful of pens. Sentiment did have it's uses, it seemed. A quick twist of the wrist had it sailing smoothly through the air. 

He wasn't surprised that even distracted by Bond, 006 was able to snatch it out of the air before it fully reached it's intended target and caused too much damage. But that didn't stop the small surge of satisfaction he felt as saw Bond's blood staining the tip of the silver blade in 006's grip. 

"Getting old, Bond." He tisked softly, turning back to his terminal, confident in 006's ability to handle the older agent...to a point. 

He pulled the Walther PPK out from the concealed compartment under his desk, the sound of the draw seeming to echo in the silence that had fallen over the branch at the start of yet another confrontation with Bond. It had gone on long enough. It all had. He was pleased to see that one minion at least had been smart enough to call security, useless as they would be against a Double-0. R at least, had been smart enough to call for back up, he was sure. And that surety was quickly rewarded, he smirked as heard Eve's distinctive gait as she stepped through the double doors and into Q Branch. Shaking his head, he turned around to finish dealing with Bond. 

Leveling his gun at the out of control agent, face expressionless, he was sure he made quite the welcome. 

"And how are you this fine day, Ms. Moneypenny?" he asked politely, gun raised. Bond had stilled at the sight of the gun, hand going to his own, before falling as Q's hand tightened threateningly on the grip of his own. "Pleasant, I hope?" he continued, cocking his head slightly as he assessed Bond for any further movement. 

Eve arched an eyebrow, "Better than yours from the look of it." She looked back and forth between the two men, and around at the spectators. She casually dismissed 006 with a discrete nod. 006 left without a backwards glance. 

"Oh, mine is about to get a lot better." Q assured her. His finger caressed the trigger. He was tempted, oh, so tempted. 

"I don't know if that is going to help." Eve offered idly, "I tried it. And while it did feel good at the time," Eve smirked, "it unfortunately doesn't seem to take for very long." she replied, motioning to the older agent with a wave of her arm. "Now, let's-"

"What do you do with a stray dog, Ms. Moneypenny, that bites the hand that feeds it?" Q interrupted, cocking his head questioningly. "I tried, oh, have I tried, for _her_ sake, if nothing else. But I am just about done. For I am running out of ideas... and more importantly...patience." He finished, bitingly. 

"Don't move." he ground out as Bond began to edge closer, face a mask of righteous indignation. "If YOU would just-" he began, cuttingly. 

"YOU blew my cover!" Bond roared, stalking back and forth. "Damn incompetent..." he grumbled loudly. 

"Incompetent!" Q roared back, bringing the gun down, afraid he might actually pull the trigger on the infuriating idiot, "You're the one who tried to sleep with the man's PA! After I specifically told you not to!" 

"I know what I'm doing." Bond scoffed infuriatingly. "I don't need some spotted-" 

"She was a plant!," Q interrupted impatiently, tired of the whole song and dance from the agent, "One we knew about...and could have used. And despite the powers that your cock has on women, apparently it isn't strong enough to turn a gay woman straight. Get over it, Bond, you blew it. Are you even surprised at this point?" he asked sarcastically, ignoring the faint flinch that Bond quickly worked to cover. He was done pussy footing around. 

He shot a cool glance up and down the agent, taking in what three months of botched and sloppy missions had wrought, far from impressed. "Because I'm not." He caught and held the older agent's eye, not hiding the disgust and disappointment he knew would be reflected there, knowing the truth would strike sharper and deeper than the blade of a mere letter opener. The older agent's eyes flickered briefly with emotion. He was too tired to care which one. He waited, the silence trickling along, until Bond finally looked away. 

Q turned tiredly back to his desk, a hand reaching out to stabilize himself as he wavered slightly, smudging the glass top further. He placed the gun on the desk with a quiet click, before speaking hollowly to the man behind him, "Get out." He leaned on the desks with both hands, fitting down a passing wave of nausea as his vision swam, "Go to medical. Or go home. I don't rightly care where at this point. Just get out." 

As Bond's steps faded away behind him, Q reached out a hand, slowly pulling his chair back around and gingerly taking a seat. He leaned forward, flicking his glasses off and massaging the bridge of his nose, willing the rising pain to a dull roar in the back of his head. As Eve stepped up behind him, he sighed. 

"I'll fix it." He stated wearily. 

"And what if you can't?" Eve asked practically. 

He shoved the Walther back into place and combed his hair back with his fingers. "I'll fix it." 

Eve sighed. "Q," She began, "you..." 

"I'll fix it." He stated resolutely. He deftly slipped his glasses back on. "Now get on with you, I've got things to do." He smiled faintly, "Minions to manage...dogs to train..." 

"Just don't shoot him." Eve ordered sternly over her shoulder as she turned to leave, before smiling slightly and temporizing. "At least not here, the paperwork, you know." 

"No promises!" Q called out sharply as the doors closed behind her. "R." He stated quietly, smiling grimly as she stepped up beside him a heartbeat later, "We have some work to do. Let's get started."


End file.
